


Turning Point

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team’s experiences during ‘Crossroads’ force Sam to evaluate her relationship with Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turning Point

**Author's Note:**

> The pained look on Jack’s face every time he saw Shau’noc’s symbiote inspired this story. Besides, I knew there had to be an S&J relationship story somewhere in ‘Crossroads’. And (of course) I added the Adult bit for the lovely ladies at samjackadult—enjoy!
> 
> Originally posted July 2001.

TURNING POINT

Jack woke drenched in sweat; the terror of the dream holding him paralyzed. He quietly struggled to take some deep breaths, anything to still the lingering horror of his nightmare—and to not awaken the woman next to him. It had been the same every night for the past week, he thought despairingly. He’d stay up until all hours, hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep, only to awaken before dawn after the same dream. Oh, sometimes the circumstances were different, but it always progressed to the same, inevitable conclusion—he was taken over by a Goa’uld—violently, horrifically, and painfully while Daniel, Teal’c, Hammond, and, oh god, even Sam all stood around him, joking and laughing amongst themselves. 

He’d had similar nightmares after Hathor’s Goa’uld had tried to blend with him, but these recent dreams were subtly different. And the difference was that no one but him seemed to object to the blending. Kind of like what happened to Hebron. He didn’t need to be a shrink to make the connection. Moving carefully, so as not to waken Sam, he eased out of bed and quietly changed into his biking gear. Grabbing his windbreaker, he looked back at the sleeping woman before slipping through the door, wondering how much longer he could keep running from his nightmares—and from her.

**********************************************

The alarm clock sounded loudly in the stillness of the room. Rolling over, Sam reached out blindly and silenced the offending object. It was the first day of their six-day leave—how could she have forgotten to turn the damn alarm off? She lay quietly for a moment, waiting for some indication that she wasn’t alone in the big bed, only to realize that he was gone—again. She slowly sat up and studied the empty side of the mattress, the sheets were rumpled, the pillow dented. Well, at least he had been in bed, though she had no idea what time he had finally given in and laid down next to her. There had been a few mornings lately when she had discovered him asleep on the living room sofa, still fully dressed, with the TV droning quietly in the background. And when she had asked him what was wrong, he had skillfully avoided answering her. Oh, and he was a master at avoiding what he didn’t want to talk about—by either ignoring her altogether or brushing her off with some vague, flimsy excuse. Of course, she had let him get away with it. She had to acknowledge that she was just as guilty as he was in evading any opportunities to talk about whatever was wrong with him, or her, or both of them. Sam was also acutely aware of the fact that they hadn’t made love in almost two weeks. That, along with their inability to talk, were what concerned her the most. She couldn’t help but worry that there was something wrong with ‘them’. 

Deciding that she might as well get up, Sam grabbed her robe off the foot of the bed, and pulling it on, went to find Jack. She checked the living room and family room on her way to the kitchen—no Jack. Arriving in the kitchen, she padded over to the coffee maker. As she opened the freezer to get the coffee out, she noticed Jack’s bike helmet was missing from its hook by the back door. So, he was off on his mountain bike. Temporarily satisfied as to his whereabouts, Sam scooped the correct amount of coffee out of the tin and adding water, turned the unit on. The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to show over the mountains as she looked out the window, down the gravel road that led to the house. The birch and small stand of aspen down in the ravine at bottom of the hill were just beginning to show signs of autumn color. Mid-September seemed too early for autumn to be starting. It seemed like it had only been yesterday that it was early summer and she had moved into Jack’s house.

The coffee maker stopped gurgling and hissing; Sam roused herself from her reverie by the window and poured a cup of the steaming brew. She went to stand by the window again, watching as the sun illuminated more and more of the landscape. June, she remembered, she had moved into Jack’s house in late June. At the time, it seemed the right thing to do. They had been lovers since their return from P3X-234, and after two months of her spending most of her time at his place, she agreed to his suggestion to give up her apartment. She had been uneasy at first, getting a post office box for her mail, a cell phone as her ‘home’ phone number; but the subterfuge had become frightfully easy as she realized being with Jack had become the most important thing to her. She knew it was a precarious line she walked—that they both walked—but the last three months had been euphoric. At least until about two and a half weeks ago; when Shau’noc had made her appearance at the SGC, when Teal’c had started to behave in a seemingly uncharacteristic manner, and her lover had become increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative.

She took a sip of her coffee, grimacing, as she tasted the cold liquid. How long had she been standing by the window, lost in thought? Long enough for her coffee to become cold, she realized, as she dumped the cold coffee down the sink and poured some fresh coffee into her mug. She took a sip, her thoughts racing in circles. What was happening to them? Why wouldn’t Jack talk to her? Why couldn’t she talk to Jack? She seemed hell-bent on repeating the same mistakes she had seen her parents make, the same mistakes she had made in her only other serious relationship. Feeling the beginnings of a headache, she rubbed her eyes tiredly, taking another sip of the coffee. Maybe they just needed some time apart; he certainly seemed to want it, the way he’d been running away from her. 

Right now, she thought a bit wistfully, she really wished she still had her apartment or some safe haven where she could retreat to, a place where she could think without constantly worrying about him and his moods. She heard the gravel crunch out in the drive, the familiar sounds of his bike skidding slightly on the loose shale. So, he’s back, she thought wearily. She waited tensely in the kitchen for him to come in, only mildly surprised when she heard the front door open and his footsteps sound down the hallway, past the kitchen. She heard the bedroom door shut and a few minutes later the distant sound of water running. 

The bastard! She was suddenly furious—whether it was with him or herself, she wasn’t sure. He must have seen the light in the kitchen, he knew she was up, yet he had purposely avoided her. Well, if he didn’t want to see her, she decided, she’d make it easy for him. Sam slammed her mug down on the table, sloshing the still hot coffee on her hand but she didn’t even notice. Striding rapidly to the hall, she flung open the hall closet door, tossing items aside until she found her duffel. 

Duffel in hand, she quickly made her way to their bedroom. Tossing it on the bed she pulled open ‘her’ drawers in Jack’s armoire and began throwing clothes into the open bag. Part of her realized she was behaving in an irrational manner, that going to stay on base wouldn’t help their relationship at all. But the angry and hurt part of her had taken over and all that part wanted to do was to get away from the cause of the hurt and the pain. She had begun pulling clothes out of the closet when she heard the shower shut off and the bathroom door open. "Dammit, where are my black boots?" she muttered to herself, rooting around on the floor of the closet.

"Sam?" 

Ignoring him—and the question in his voice, Sam kept on searching the closet. "I know they’re in here somewhere."

"Sam," he repeated a bit more forcefully, this time grabbing her arm.

Pulling her arm from his grasp, she turned to face him, a pair of boots dangling from one hand. His hair was still damp from the shower, sticking out in moist spikes from his head. His eyes, oh god his beautiful eyes, were shadowed with fatigue and something else she couldn’t quite decipher. For the first time in days she really looked at him, the dark circles under his eyes, the deep lines fatigue had etched into his face, the slight slump of his shoulders as he stood before her clad only on a towel slung low around his hips. Suddenly all the anger drained out of her, whatever she was putting herself through was nothing compared to what her lover was going through.

She dropped her boots, and ran a hand through her hair, "I, ah…." She stopped and looked helplessly at him.

"You’re going somewhere?" His voice was deceptively mild as he looked from her to the half-filled duffel on the bed.

Totally lost for words, Sam continued to stare at Jack. It was painfully obvious that she had planned on going somewhere, but now, she wasn’t so sure anymore. She cleared her throat and tried again, "I thought maybe I might spend a few days on base…." Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

Jack looked at her a moment longer, his expression unreadable, and then turned and walked to the armoire. He closed the drawers she had left open before sliding open one and pulling out clean underwear. She watched in silence, as he let the towel drop and pulled on his boxers, then the T-shirt. She could feel the frustration start to rise in her again as he once more turned to her and said in a calm voice, "Did I miss something here, Sam?"

God, the man was infuriating! She suddenly lost it. "Hell yes, you’ve missed something, Jack!" she exploded. "Have you missed the fact that you haven’t slept properly in days? That you’ve been ignoring me—and Daniel, and Teal’c since you and he returned from Vorash?" Her voice trailed off to a whisper as she turned away from him, "That we haven’t made love in almost two weeks?" 

Sam waited for him to say something—anything, but when he didn’t she straightened her shoulders and taking a deep breath, turned to face him. Even after her outburst, his expression remained carefully neutral. Never let them know what you’re feeling, eh, Jack? she thought tiredly. "You don’t seem to want or need me around, so I thought I’d go stay on base for awhile."

"Like hell you are," his suddenly angry voice filled the room.

Well, she had wanted a reaction, and it appeared he was finally giving her one. "Excuse me?" she asked, anger and confusion fighting for dominance in her voice.

"Hell, Sam, I never took you for a quitter." With those words, he finished getting dressed, while Sam stared at him in stunned silence. The balance of power had just shifted in the room, she wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the reply he had given her.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Jack O’Neill?" she asked cautiously.

He looked up at her, from the dresser where he had been gathering his watch and billfold. "What’s the matter Sam? Haven’t I been behaving properly?" He put on his watch, "Not acting like the proper live-in lover?" He gestured towards the incriminating duffel, filled with her clothing. "Things not going according to Sam Carter’s perfect plan so you just pack it in? Sorry if I’m not performing up to ‘specs’."

She closed her eyes for a moment, bringing a hand up to wearily rub her forehead. She could feel the tension headache, that had been pounding dully at her brain ever since she had woken up, suddenly flare into full life. The sound of the bedroom door closing brought her eyes back open. She wasn’t going to let him run off this time, she thought, not after what he had just said. She ran after him, hearing the front door open as she left the bedroom. 

"Jack!" she called as the front door slammed shut. As she opened the door, his pick-up rumbled into life, and she watched helplessly as he backed out of the drive and fishtailed on the loose gravel as he shifted into gear and sped down the road. She watched as the truck disappeared from view; she slowly realized she was trembling and sank cautiously to the floor. What was happening to them? She choked back on a sob and took several shuddering breaths before gradually rising to her feet and making her way back to the bedroom. She deliberately ignored the duffel; the clothes she stuffed in it seemed to be mocking her. As if running away to the base would have helped solve her problem. God, if she only knew what the problem was! She stood numbly in the bedroom, shower, she finally decided she needed to take a shower. Then she could think about what she would do—and whether she would still be here when Jack came home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam barely glanced at her reflection in the slightly steamed over bathroom mirror. She already knew her eyes were red from the crying she had finally allowed herself to indulge in while she showered. Sam also knew she was pale and had dark circles under her eyes that she only now realized matched those of her lover’s. Drying her hair quickly, she didn’t bother to put on any make-up. She had reluctantly decided to go to the base, her earlier argument with Jack left her feeling like she didn’t have any other option. Too bad it was the middle of the week, she didn’t relish answering the questions of anyone that she would see. Fortunately, the location of her lab and the highly classified nature of her work kept most people away. She could be totally isolated there. 

She brushed at her eyes as she felt the tears starting again. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. Time, she kept telling herself, just a little time apart and then we can talk and it will all be okay. She couldn’t quite still the niggling little voice that kept reminding her that running from problems never solved them. Was she quitting on their relationship, like Jack had said? Stifling another sob, she left the bathroom and quickly dressed in jeans, a heavy sweater and the black boots. Grabbing the duffel, she quickly stuffed her toiletries in it, along with anything else she thought she might need. Zipping it shut, she took one last look around the bedroom. It was a mess, bed unmade, pieces of her clothing and his scattered about. A bit like their relationship, she thought, once more fighting back the urge to cry. 

**********************************************

Jack stood, leaning back against the front bumper on the passenger side of the pick-up, waiting for Sam to leave the house. His outward appearance was a study of casualness, his body posture relaxed; his reflective sunglasses however, hid his eyes, masking the tension evident in his expression. Inwardly, he was as scared as he’d ever been. He had been stunned this morning when he’d left the bathroom and seen Sam packing…to leave him. He felt as if he were reliving two nightmares now—the Goa’uld one and Sarah’s departure. After rushing out of the house, he had only driven a few blocks before he realized he had nowhere to go, the dreams would just go with him, as would the hurt in Sam’s eyes as he had mocked her. He had pulled over to the side of the road then, and as he rested his head against the steering wheel he acknowledged he was the ‘quitter’, not Sam. He’d been running away from his dreams and her. 

He truly hadn’t realized until that moment, when she told him she was going to stay on base, that their relationship had foundered that much. Had it really been two weeks since Shau’noc had been killed and Teal’c had withdrawn into his Jaffa revenge mode and he had withdrawn into himself, shutting her out? Jack hadn’t found himself particularly good company; he could only imagine now, what it had been like for Sam. He needed to do something; it had taken the threat of her leaving to open up his eyes. 

His jaw tightened as he remembered her face when he accused her of being a quitter—a mixture of confusion, fear and shame. It was the fear and shame that had done him in, he hadn’t given her any other options except to leave—or at least put some time and distance between them. That day in June had been one of the best days of his life, when she had agreed to live with him. So maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing either one of them could have done, but for him it had solidified and given their relationship a permanence that he had unconsciously craved. And now she was on the verge of slipping out of his home and his life—which was something he was determined would not happen. Jack knew he was taking a big risk, she might not be agreeable to his plan, he did however, know enough about them both to realize they needed to be together—not apart—in order to work out this tangle in their relationship.

He straightened up as he heard the front door open. She didn’t see him right away, as she turned to lock the door. He knew when she did see him however, she stood stock-still, her whole body suddenly on alert—ready for flight or fight, he realized. She had her sunglasses on too, so he couldn’t see her eyes, he saw her mouth quiver though, as she walked down the steps, towards the drive. God, she was so beautiful, she took his breath away. The bulky sweater and coat did nothing to enhance her figure, and even though she looked pale and drawn, she still radiated an elegance that amazed him. She finally stood before him, juggling the duffel, her purse, and brief case on one arm; her car keys dangling in her right hand. 

"Jack?" was all she said, so softly that he almost missed the question and yearning in her voice.

He didn’t say anything; he didn’t trust himself yet. He was afraid once he started talking he’d never be able to stop. He reached for her duffel and brief case, she looked questioningly at him, yet gave him the bags. He opened the passenger door and stowed the two items behind the front seat, in with part of the other supplies he had packed there while she showered. He then held the door open for Sam, and waited for her to get in. She studied his face for a moment, he gave her a small—and what he hoped was reassuring smile—and she seemed satisfied, as she climbed up into the truck. 

Letting out a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding, Jack closed the door and jogged around to the driver’s side. He was almost giddy with relief, she had gotten into the pick-up without a fight—he glanced at her quickly as he turned the key in the ignition. She was looking over her shoulder into the rear bed of the vehicle, where she could clearly see their camping gear stowed. She looked at him then, and she had taken her sunglasses off. His breath caught in his throat, her eyes were slightly red and swollen from her tears, the dark circles more pronounced giving them a bruised look. He didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think of what to say—and now wasn’t the right time, anyway. Putting the truck into gear, he backed out of the driveway and headed towards Highway 24.

******************************************

The tight feeling in her chest gradually eased the farther they got from the Springs. When he turned the pick-up onto Highway 24, she unclenched her hands, and let her purse drop to the floorboards. She stared out the window at the scenery rushing by, splashes of yellow and red interspersing the normal green of the hillsides. As they sped through Woodland Park and on past Divide, she slowly put two and two together and realized where they were headed—Lost Lake. She glanced towards Jack, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of him as he navigated the twists and turns in the highway with skill and precision. She could sense that he had become more relaxed as well, as the distance between their private and military selves increased. Her head still throbbed, but the ache was bearable. She shrugged out of her coat, and bunching it up as a pillow, she rested her head against the window and closed her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sam," his low voice finally penetrated her consciousness, waking her. She groaned, as she sat up, feeling her coat fall into her lap. She felt drugged, she had been sound asleep. Opening her eyes, the first thing she saw was his concerned face. She wiped her face and mouth, how wonderful—she’d been drooling. She grimaced and looked away from him, out the window. She looked around curiously, recognizing the City Market—they were in Gunnison.

"What time is it?" she asked, her voice still groggy from sleep.

"Just past noon."

Noon? They had made good time. 

"We need to get groceries." He took the keys out of the ignition, and opened the door. He looked back at her, "You going to come in?"

"Yeah," she shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. She opened the pick-up’s door, stepping out and shivering a bit at the cool bite of the air. It was definitely fall in the mountains, she thought. She didn’t bother putting on her coat though, but quickly followed Jack into the grocery store. She wandered behind him, as he pushed the cart up and down the aisle, efficiently selecting the food and various other items they’d need. As she watched him slowly fill the cart, she tried to calculate by its contents how long he planned for them to stay up at Lost Lake. By the look of the steadily filling cart, he must have plans for them to camp there the entire six days of their leave. Right now she didn’t really care, at least they were together. And six days, in an isolated location in the middle of September—not exactly the height of the tourist season—they would have to talk to each other.

Finally reaching the check out stand, she helped him load the articles on the conveyer belt, deciding at the last minute to toss a couple of paperbacks in with the rest of their supplies. He carried on a casual conversation with the clerk, asking about weather conditions and the like in the high country. She wasn’t really paying attention. 

"Sam?" She suddenly realized he had paid the clerk and their groceries were bagged. "Can you take this stuff out to the truck while I get the ice and firewood?"

"Yeah, sure." She pushed the cart out of the store and towards their vehicle. As Sam navigated the cart across the parking lot she saw, for the first time, that he’d disassembled their bikes for travel and strapped them in the bed of the truck. Goodness, she thought, he’d certainly been a busy while she showered. Waiting patiently by the truck for Jack to return, she idly watched the activity around the store and the parking lot. Several minutes later he joined her, his extra cart loaded with four bundles of wood and several bags of ice. Working together, Sam loaded the supplies in the storage the extended cab provided, while Jack filled the cooler with the ice and perishables. 

When everything was back in it’s proper location and strapped down, Jack closed the gate and asked, "You want any lunch?"

"I’m not really hungry," she told him. "I could use a bathroom, though."

He smiled then, the first real smile she’d seen from him in days. "Was wondering when you were going to ask," was all he said, though. "We need to get gas, you can go there."

She gave him a quick smile, and they got back into the truck. Minutes later, Jack pulled into a Circle K and Sam jumped out, going into the store while he filled the pick-up with gas. She met him at the counter, where he was paying for the gas, a bag of chips, a bottle of her favorite flavor of Snapple and a Coke. He handed her the Snapple, "Thought you might like this."

"Thanks." Sam smiled slightly at him again and was rewarded by one in return. As she followed him back to the truck she felt her heart get a little lighter. They seemed to have called a truce, at least for the time being. Oh, she wasn’t going to fool herself that their relationship was anywhere close to being where it should be, but some of the unbearable tension seemed to have left. She wasn’t feeling tense and uneasy around him, and she suddenly realized, her headache was gone. 

"Do you want me to drive?" she asked, feeling mildly guilty that he had driven all the way to Gunnison while she slept.

"Nah," he opened the passenger door for her. He helped her in, resting his hand briefly on her thigh. "I’m not tired. And I know you don’t like driving over the pass."

She smiled gratefully at him, he was right—she didn’t like driving over Kebler Pass from Crested Butte to Lost Lake. Jack, on the other hand, looked at driving the twenty-five miles or so of gravel road to the campground as an adventure. Once they were buckled up in their seats, Jack started up the truck and handed her the bag of chips. She opened it for him saying, "We could have stopped somewhere for lunch."

He pulled out of the Circle K and once they were back on the highway, headed north towards Crested Butte, he reached for a chip. "No, I’m not really that hungry." He glanced briefly at her, "Besides, I want to get up to Lost Lake."

Sam nodded in understanding, she was also anxious to arrive at their destination. She had started to sense that they were at some sort of turning point in their relationship, and how the next few days—or even next few hours went, she decided wryly, could decide the direction of the rest of their lives. 

They drove on in silence, climbing in altitude as they approached Crested Butte. The town certainly looked different in the fall, Mount Crested Butte looked almost naked without a blanket of snow. There wasn’t too much activity in town, it was painfully obvious it was the off-season. She did note that one of their favorite restaurants looked like it was open. Maybe if they got tired of cooking over an open fire, they could come into town for a meal. Of course, when she thought about the contents of her duffel, she wasn’t sure she had packed any appropriate clothing for an evening in town. She hoped what clothing she did have would be sufficient.

As they turned onto the gravel road that signified the start of Kebler Pass, she thought about the first time they had come here. She had been amazed, and pleasantly surprised, that Jack liked to camp. As much time as they spent in tents, cooking over open fires, and sleeping outdoors as they did for their job, she hadn’t thought it would be something he would do when he wasn’t working. But, he loved to camp—and so did she. She remembered Daniel had told him about Lost Lake after he and some friends had returned from skiing at Crested Butte. Of course, the campground was closed in the winter—Kebler Pass was closed too, for that matter. But the owner of the Bed & Breakfast Daniel had stayed at had told him about the local camping areas in the National Forest, and how Lost Lake had some of the best fishing around. And due to its isolated location and the small size of the campground, it was never very crowded. 

Jack had dragged her up there the first weekend in June. It was a beautiful spot; they had both fallen in love with it immediately. Jack had caught his limit of Rainbow and Brown trout each day. She smiled fondly at the memory. While she loved eating trout, she sure didn’t enjoy cleaning them—the only good thing was that they didn’t have scales! That weekend had also been when he had first brought up changing their living arrangements. She had been head-over-heels in love at the time, and even though she knew there would be holy hell to pay if they were ever caught, she had jumped at the chance to live with him. She had been naïve enough to think that any problems they’d have would stem from keeping their relationship a secret—not because they would have a problem. She had been more than naïve; she had been stupid, she ruefully acknowledged. 

So lost in her thoughts, Sam hadn’t even realized they were on the western side of the pass until she saw the sign for Lost Lake. The whole area was beautiful in the fall, at this high altitude the aspen had already started turning beautiful shades of yellow and red. As Jack turned down the rutted dirt road to the campground she asked idly, "Think that there’ll be many other people here?"

"Doubt it," he murmured, glancing briefly at her, before turning his attention back to the road. "We should be able to have our favorite spot." He referred to one of the more isolated campsites, with a view of the lake and the Beckwith Mountains. 

He slowed the jeep down as they reached the entrance to the campground, and drove slowly on past the small kiosk. The whole area had a deserted feeling to it, though as they drove past the first few campsites they did see one that was occupied, a tent—but no vehicle—present. Jack kept going and they finally reached ‘their’ spot after a few more minutes of driving. As he pulled past the site and prepared to back the truck in, Sam was relieved to note that no one was camped close to them. They’d have to check out the rest of the campground, but it looked like the only other site occupied was the one they’d passed earlier.

Working together, they quickly set up camp, each going about their tasks with quiet efficiency. They set up the two-room tent together, and then Jack left Sam to finish getting their living space organized while he unloaded the rest of the truck. As he set up the canopy over the picnic table he could hear Sam inflating the air mattress. While he enjoyed camping, he liked the luxuries that camping on-world offered, like queen-sized air mattresses. After arranging their cooking supplies and equipment, he took their duffels into the tent. Lifting the flap to the second room, he watched as Sam finished zipping their sleeping bags together, before spreading them out on the mattress. He hadn’t realized he’d been worried until he felt the sudden surge of relief at seeing her make up the bed for both of them. 

She looked at him then, her expression unreadable, before finishing with the bed by placing their pillows and the extra blankets in their appropriate places. He silently handed her their duffels then, before saying, "I, ah, know it’s kind of early, but I thought maybe I’d get a fire going and cook dinner." When she looked questioningly at him he added, "We didn’t have any lunch…."

"No, you’re right." She looked at her watch; "It’ll be dark in a few hours, anyway."

It had taken a bit longer than Jack expected to fix dinner, so it was dark by the time they had finished eating and cleaning up. The evening had turned chilly by the time the sun had set. They had caught a glimpse of the other people staying in the campground, another couple, who seemed just as eager as they were to be left alone. Jack sat by the fire with a cup of coffee, watching while Sam took the lantern and went into the tent. The atmosphere between them was still decidedly cool. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t bring up their fight that morning, or even the reason why he had brought them up here. She’d wait until he was ready to talk. His plan had seemed so clear in the light of day, but now that it was night—and bedtime approached—his whole scheme seemed a trifle crazy. Of course, it could be that he couldn’t think straight because he was so exhausted. He had been lying to her earlier, on the drive up, when he’d told her he wasn’t tired. Hell, he was tired all the time now—and afraid to sleep, even up here, away from everything. What he had to say to Sam would have to wait until tomorrow…when he wasn’t as tired or confused.

"Jack?" He turned at the sound of her voice, seeing her silhouetted in the entrance to the tent. "I’m going to the bathroom."

"Okay," he mumbled, watching as she walked down the small path to the latrine, the light from her flashlight marking her progress as it bobbed up and down.

When Sam returned from the toilet, Jack had his telescope out and was busy setting it up in a clearing a short distance from their tent. The sky was so clear, a telescope wasn’t really necessary for stargazing, but he couldn’t face bed yet—he was running again and he wanted Sam to be asleep before he finally tried to get to sleep. 

"Don’t wait up for me," he called to her, when she stopped hesitantly by the tent. He could just see the disappointment in her face, illuminated by the flashlight, but she just nodded her head and entered the tent. I’m sorry, Sam, he thought almost desperately, just give me a little more time. 

******************************************

Sam sat, resting against a convenient pine, reading one of the paperbacks she’d bought in Gunnison and enjoying the warm afternoon and quiet sounds from the lake and surrounding forest. Setting her book down, she took a drink from her water bottle and, squinting against the sun, could just see Jack a few hundred yards down, at the lake’s edge, skipping stones. It had been an interesting twenty-four hours, to say the least. After leaving Jack with his telescope last night, she had intended on staying awake until he came to bed, but in spite of her earlier nap, found herself falling into an exhausted slumber. She hadn’t woken when he’d gotten into the sleeping bag next to her; she had awoken, however, when he started moving restlessly in his sleep. The enforced closeness of their sleeping arrangements had seen to that, but just as she had been about to try and calm him, he had abruptly woken. She was still puzzling over the quiet conversation that had ensued.

"Jack, what is it?" she had whispered, raising up on one elbow, trying to see his face in the dim light.

He’d thrown an arm over his eyes, "Nothing, Sam…just a dream." He’d finally croaked out.

"Jack?" she had questioned again, a pleading note in her voice.

He’d moved his arm then, and bleak brown eyes stared back at her. "Just…give me a little more time, okay, Sam?" His expression seemed to be willing her to understand, and though she really didn’t, she nodded and had curled up by his side. She felt him stiffen, but then his arms came around her and she nestled closer to him and quickly fell back asleep.

He’d been gone by the time she woke later that morning, but she hadn’t been too concerned, he couldn’t go very far. In fact, he hadn’t been very far away all day. After she’d gotten up, she’d found him hunched over a cup of coffee next to the cold remains of the previous evening’s fire. She’d convinced him to join her for a run, doing the three-mile loop of the Three Lakes Trail. After the invigorating run, she’d been starving, which was a good sign she decided, as her appetite had been decidedly lacking of late. Or maybe it was just the combination of the fresh air and high altitude. Or, looking once more at Jack as he skimmed another stone, it was more than likely the fact that—even though they weren’t ‘talking’, they were together. She had cooked up a huge breakfast of eggs, pancakes and bacon and then after eating, Jack had assembled their bikes, while she’d cleaned up. When he had given no indication that he had anything planned, she had taken one of the blankets and walked down to the lake, with her book.

He had followed a short time later, and had seemed content to mess around the lakeshore while she read. A shadow fell across her, and she looked up—Jack stood looking down at her for a moment before plopping down on the blanket next to her. "Whatcha’ reading?" he asked, indicating the book she held absently at her side.

"Oh," she held it up for him to see, "’Gravity’."

He raised an eyebrow.

"It’s a scifi-slash-medical thriller about a killer virus on a space station," she explained.

He gave her a crooked grin, "Sounds kind of familiar."

She smiled. "I said space station, not planet," she actually teased. 

He yawned then, and she was taken aback once more by how tired he appeared. Granted, the stubble on his face didn’t help, but if it was possible, he looked even worse than he had when they had left the Springs. "Jack," she pleaded, "why don’t you lie down, try and take a nap?" 

His face closed down in an instant, and she found herself thinking that he looked almost afraid at the prospect of a nap. "Jack," she asked gently, "what is it?"

His expression immediately cleared, and he gave her a tight smile before saying, "I am a little tired, maybe you’re right."

Feeling the heavy undercurrents, but unsure as to what she could do about it, she straightened her legs out and patting her thighs said, "Rest your head in my lap."

She met his searching gaze head on, trying to keep her eyes confident, before he finally nodded and lay down, stretching out his long frame with his head in her lap. Setting her book aside, she waited until he had finished shifting about, and then began gently stroking his forehead. "It’s so peaceful here," she commented, the quiet sounds of the lake, the breeze through the pines and the muted sounds of the birds providing a gentle backdrop to her words.

He didn’t say anything, and after a few minutes, she picked up her book with her other hand, but before she could start reading again he spoke. "Did it hurt, when Jolinar took you?"

Her hand stilled, where it had been gently stroking his temples. His quietly voiced question had taken her completely off guard. Jolinar, and the entire circumstances surrounding the events during that time were something they never discussed. Oh, she had told him—and Daniel and Teal’c—that it was the worst thing that had ever happened to her. But back when it had all occurred, their relationship hadn’t yet progressed to the point where she felt comfortable in sharing something so…personal with him. Their relationship had progressed however, and with everything that had happened lately fresh in her mind, she intuitively sensed that there was more behind his question.

Sam set the book back down, her fingers once more tenderly running through his hair. "Physically, no." She paused for a moment, "Except for a sore throat," she added, almost as an afterthought. "I think the Tok’ra try not to hurt their hosts," she clarified. Her hand stilled in his hair for a moment before she continued, "They don’t seem to get the same pleasure out of instilling pain as the Goa’uld do when they take a host." 

"What about later?" he asked. She hazarded a quick look at his face, but he kept his eyes closed, seemingly relaxed, yet she could feel the tension in the set of his shoulders as he rested against her.

She took a deep breath; it was difficult for her to talk about that time, yet she would to do it for Jack. "I was confused and scared out of my mind." She chuckled dryly, "Not a bad description, all in all." She gazed out at the lake, the rippling of the clear blue surface helping to calm her. "I had no idea what was happening to me, except that I’d been taken by a Goa’uld. It was like I was watching myself in some bizarre dream, where everything was happening outside of my body. And no matter how hard I tried to wake up, I couldn’t." Her hand stilled in his hair, "I was sure I was going to die," she murmured, "and I couldn’t do anything to prevent it."

He reached up then and took a hold of her hand, bringing it to his lips, lightly kissing her palm before releasing her hand. "I thought you were going to die, too." His voice hardened, "I still can’t figure out why she let you live."

Sam gently caressed his face. "Redemption, maybe?" She looked out across the lake, taking in the beauty around her. "I’ve wondered plenty of times why she sacrificed herself for me, from the little I know of her, it certainly wasn’t her usual style." She sighed, "But maybe in those last minutes, she viewed her death as an atonement for her actions—both past and present."

He didn’t say anything else, and she leaned back against the tree, continuing her delicate massage of his face. Though he seemed to be resting, she knew he wasn’t asleep. After several minutes she asked softly, "Did it hurt, Jack?"

"What?" he murmured.

"Hathor’s Goa’uld. When it took you, did it hurt?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack’s heart stopped beating for a millisecond and then started racing. Even though he had given her the opening, and he wanted to share with her, now that the moment was upon him it was harder than he had imagined. She continued stroking his face, her calm touch reaching in to him. "Yeah, it hurt," he finally muttered. He opened his eyes; she stilled her hand as he looked steadily into her clear blue eyes. "Remember how much it hurt when you set my leg in Antarctica?" She nodded. "Well, this was one hundred times worse." He shuddered, "It felt like someone was ripping my skull open—very slowly."

"What happened after the attack started? When they took me and Daniel away?" He could hear the curiosity in her voice. As had been the case with her experiences with Jolinar, he hadn’t talked about what had happened to him at the hands of Hathor. 

"That doctor-lady told me she was a Tok’ra, that I had to fight the blending." He sat up abruptly, brushing Sam’s hands away. "God, Sam, it was horrible." He looked at her, his eyes almost wild. "I don’t know how the hell you can be so calm about it!"

"Jack, I…" 

He got to his feet then, cutting off whatever she might have said. "I’m going for a walk," he told her tersely, turning towards the campground, away from the lake.

Sam watched him stride away, anger and tension evident in every step away from her that he took. Confused and angry herself, she wondered how she could have misread him so. She thought he had wanted to talk about their shared experiences at the hands of the Goa’uld, since he had broached the subject first. She picked up her book with shaky fingers and tried to concentrate on the story, but her mind kept wandering to her lover and the current disaster that was their relationship.

******************************************

Sam reluctantly put down her book, even though she could only remember part of what she’d read; she was loath to leave the sanctuary of the lakeside. But it was getting late, and she’d have to face him sooner or later. She gathered up her belongings and trudged back to their campsite. He wasn’t there. Sighing, she put the blanket and book in the tent, and then set about making a fire and getting some dinner together. She wasn’t really hungry, but there didn’t seem to be anything else to do. She had just finished slicing some vegetables and potatoes to add to the canned stew when she heard someone approach. It was Jack.

He stopped just outside the canopy, his hands in his pockets, his face somber. He stood as if waiting permission from her to enter. 

"Hey," she said softly.

"Sam," he took a few tentative steps towards her. "I’m sorry, babe, for how I acted earlier."

She nodded her head, but didn’t say anything.

He studied her face for a moment before continuing. "I want to talk about it, but it’s damn hard."

"I know, Jack," she finally said. She closed her eyes for a moment before adding herself, "It’s just…you keep pushing me away, Jack." When she opened her eyes again, she didn’t try to hide the fear and the longing that was present. "I know we can work through this."

He came closer, reaching out to caress her cheek. She leaned into the caress, "We will, baby, we will." His hand dropped back to his side and she could actually see him pull himself together as he asked, "What’s for dinner?" Leaving her side, he went to inspect the two pots boiling merrily away on the campstove.

They managed to make it through dinner without any problems, even though their conversation was at a minimum. And then the same ritual as the previous evening, Sam went into the tent alone, while Jack messed with his telescope. As she got ready for bed, pulling on her warm pajamas, she was determined to stay awake until he came to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His restless movements and moans woke her from a sound sleep. She turned on her side towards him and gently shook his shoulder. "Jack, Jack," she called softly. "Wake up." As was his usual, he woke suddenly, sitting straight up on the mattress before realizing where he was and sinking back down onto the pillows. 

"Shit," he muttered; rubbing at his eyes with a hand that she could see—even in the first faint light of dawn—clearly trembled. 

"Tell me about the dream, Jack," she murmured, her hand reaching to touch his hair-roughened cheek gently. He jerked at her touch, looking at her with haunted eyes. The fear and terror still present tore at her heart. 

He let out a shuddering sigh, and she shifted so that she could pull him into her arms. He came with surprising eagerness, and nestled safely within the comfort of her embrace, he started haltingly to talk. "It starts out a little different every time, but basically we’re on some planet, doing our ‘thing’. Daniel’s got the camcorder out taping some ruins, Teal’c’s doing his Jaffa thing, you’re taking soil samples or some other what-not and I’m keeping watch."

"Seems pretty tame." 

"You’d think, wouldn’t ya’?" His hold on her tightened a bit as he continued, "But then it all changes. Some Goa’uld—doesn’t matter which one, Apophis, Hathor, Heru’ur, Chronos—take your pick, attacks us. Captures us." His voice dropped almost to a whisper, "Then the System Lord of the day brings out his handy Jaffa and pulls a snake out of his gut, and heads straight for you-know-who."

"Sounds like your basic nightmare, love," she murmured, uncertain as to what she was missing from his narrative.

"Yeah, well it gets better." He pulled out of her arms then, shifting his body so that he half lay on her, his hand coming up to cup her cheek as he searched her eyes. "The only problem is that no one seems to care that I’m about to become a snakehead. Daniel, Teal’c, sometimes Hammond’s there, sometimes your Dad, and always you—never having any kind of problem or putting up any kind of fight to prevent this snake from boring it’s way into my skull."

He flopped back onto the mattress then, "Just like with Hebron, the sorry bastard." His voice hardened, "Everyone was happy that he’d just been snaked. No one cares about what that poor wretch is going through. Let’s just use him and get our intel so we can have another thousand years to take-down a System Lord."

Her breath caught at his narrative. Did he actually think that any of them would let him become a host? That she would let that happen to him? This was cutting right into the heart of their relationship, if somewhere in his mind he had doubts about her and her love. As if he didn’t trust her…. 

"Jack, I…" she sat up, she was shaking now, herself. She looked at him, but he had an arm across his eyes. She pulled his arm away, and after a long moment he opened his eyes. "You know I’d never let happen," she begged.

"Yeah, Sam…that’s what I keep telling myself and then I keep having the same dream over and over," he told her wearily. "Hell, you’re always the one who’s so buddy-buddy with the Tok’ra, blindly accepting what they propose, ‘scientific curiosity’ and all that." He rubbed his hand over his face, "Sometimes I just don’t know who to believe or trust."

She stared blankly at him, her thoughts in turmoil. Did he really believe that he couldn’t trust her? She needed to get away from him, out the tent—she needed some air. Rising clumsily to her feet, she groped for her shoes and coat, leaving the strained atmosphere in the tent as fast as she could.

Once outside, she took some quick gulps of the chill morning air, before she felt light-headed and had to sink to her knees, putting her head down so she wouldn’t pass out. She was starting to hyperventilate, she realized. Take deep breaths; slow, deep breaths, she told herself. After a few moments, her head felt less fuzzy and her breathing had slowed down. However her thoughts continued to careen out of control in an endless of cycle of doubt, fear and love. How could he doubt her feelings for him? How could he doubt her love? Hadn’t she proven to him that she was trustworthy? She was risking her career—everything—to be with him, and he was dreaming that she would turn him over to be a host.

"Sam." She felt his hands on her shoulders, tugging her to her feet. She jerked out of his grasp, taking several steps away from him. 

"Don’t touch me, Jack. Not right now." She knew her eyes were frantic as she turned to face him. 

"Sam, baby…" he took small steps towards her, she continued to back away from him until she ran into the picnic table.

His calm manner and the casually spoken endearment broke something in her. "Damn you, Jack O’Neill," she whispered in a shattered voice. "How dare you even insinuate that I would let a Goa’uld or a Tok’ra—or anything—make you a host!" He stopped moving towards her as she spoke. "It almost killed me to see Hathor touch you, put that snake in you." She shuddered before continuing, "And don’t you think I know that the Tok’ra are arrogant, condescending and less than truthful in their dealings with us? That they have an agenda that they keep carefully hidden? But damn it Jack, they have my father." Her face crumpled slightly, but she continued, determined to make him understand. "If I act more tolerant of them than you, it’s because of Dad." 

Tears filled her eyes, whether they were tears for her, for Jack, or for her father she wasn’t sure. "I don’t want to lose him, Jack. And if ‘playing nice’ with the Tok’ra is what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do." She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling the chill of the late September morning. Jack had to be just as cold, as he stood across from her, barefoot and dressed only in a pair of sweat pants and T-shirt. 

"I don’t expect you to understand," she added with quiet dignity. "I just want you to accept that that’s the way it has to be for me."

She didn’t say anything else, waiting for him to respond, when the tense atmosphere between them was suddenly broken by the sound of a dog barking. Turning her head towards the noise, she saw a very friendly black lab come bounding into their campsite, leaping up on Jack. Sam watched wearily as he patted and murmured to the dog, then jumping a bit herself when she heard a whistle. 

"Bebe!" 

A man’s voice called from the road; the dog’s ears perked up, and after giving Jack one last, sloppy lick, she ran off towards the man. "Sorry about that folks. Hope she didn’t startle you too much," the stranger apologized as he fastened a lead on the dog.

"No problem, nice dog." Jack called to the man, as the two walked off.

Feeling unbearably weary, Sam abruptly sat down on the picnic table bench, resting her head in her hands. She felt the bench give and creak a bit as Jack sat down next to her. She flinched slightly when his arm came around her, but allowed him to pull her closer, one of her arms sliding around his waist as she buried her head against his shoulder. 

"God in heaven, Sam," he murmured against her hair. "What are we doing to each other?"

She pulled away slightly, so she could see his face. Nothing had changed, the same deep brown eyes, shadowed even in the bright morning light. The same dark circles from too many sleepless nights, the tightness around his mouth. He didn't look away from her, he met her steady gaze head on, and even as she felt her eyes fill again with tears, she kept her focus on him. "I love you, Jack." His face softened a little with her words. She smiled slightly in response. "I thought I had learned something from my parent’s marriage, from my engagement. But all it seems that I’ve learned is avoidance and evasion." She sighed, "You’re partially right Jack, when you accused me back in the Springs of being upset that you weren’t behaving according to my perfect little plan." She laughed bitterly, "God, like my perfect plan included an affair with my CO."

"Sam," he brought a trembling hand up to her face, gently stroking her cheek. "I never meant for this, for us to happen…" his voice trailed off. "But god help me, it did—and I don’t regret it at all."

"It’s all right," she murmured, wishing she could erase the guilt she saw in his face at her words. "You didn’t do anything that I didn’t want, that I still don’t want," she added ruefully. "It’s just that, Jack—I’ve given everything to you. But your dream tells me that you have doubts about our relationship and my love for you." He looked like he wanted to say something, but she reached up, putting a finger to his lips. "I would die myself before I’d let your nightmare come true." She gazed steadily at him, hoping that he could see her love and sincerity. 

She lowered her hand from his face, and when he didn’t say anything, she sighed. "I just thought that the basis for our relationship went a little deeper than propinquity and sex. But if that’s all there is, then heaven help me, Jack, but it looks like I’ll settle for that." She smiled crookedly at him, and leaning towards him, brushed his lips with hers. "It’s just going to take me a little time to get used to the idea." With that she slowly withdrew out of his arms and went back into the tent.

Jack watched her as she walked the few yards to the tent, looking slight and vulnerable in her pajamas and coat. He was so confused, he loved Sam, couldn’t imagine his life without her, and god knows he trusted her. So why did he seem bent on breaking that trust? The very qualities that made her an invaluable member of SG-1—her independent thinking and curiosity, her tolerance of the Tok’ra, her loyalty to her father, were all things he admired in her. He didn’t want a weak, clinging woman—he needed someone as strong as himself. He knew she didn’t like what happened to Hebron any better than he did, but she at least had the sense to realize that the only thing they could do was ‘play nice’. He was letting his frustration with the whole Tok’ra agenda spill over into their private life. That, and his deeply rooted fear of being taken as a host. Once was enough, thank you very much. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, only that when Sam emerged from the tent, she was dressed. "Jack, aren’t you cold?" she asked, looking to his bare feet. 

"Ah…well, now that you mention it," he mumbled.

"Go get dressed and I’ll make breakfast." 

"Sam," he grabbed her hand as she walked past him, "I do trust you, it’s just…"

"It’s okay, Jack," she interrupted him. She smiled gently at him as she tugged her hand out of his grasp. "I understand."

He let her go and watched as she fired up the cook stove and began making coffee. Well, he was glad she understood, because he was as confused as hell.

The rest of the morning took on a surreal quality for Jack. Sam acted as if their tense conversation just after dawn hadn’t happened. He wasn’t sure what he wanted from her, some yelling and screaming? He’d had that from Sarah, but at least he knew how to deal with it. This sudden change in attitude from Sam had him worried. You’re one hard bastard to please, Jack, he thought, be glad she’s still talking to you after you all but told her that you didn’t trust her. 

When Jack told Sam he was driving over to Paonia to get more ice, firewood and a few other items, he hadn’t expected her to want to come with him. But she had, and they had done their grocery shopping and even spent an hour or so browsing through a couple of the antique shops. After lunch at one of the local restaurants, they headed back to Lost Lake. The sunny morning had gradually given way to a few clouds and by the time they had reached the campground, the weather began changing in earnest; the wind blew briskly from the west and more clouds had started to congregate low over the mountains.

After helping to unload their supplies, Jack—still feeling off-balance—decided he needed some time to think. Leaving a bemused looking Sam to her own devices, he quickly changed into his biking gear and with a "See ya’ later," cycled towards the Beckwith Pass Trail. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam watched him ride off, she knew he was confused by her change in attitude. Truth be told, she was a little confused herself. The only thing she was certain about was that she didn’t want to fight with him anymore. She had finally acknowledged that he had really hit the nail on the head with his digs about her ‘ideal’ relationship. If she had been serious about her ideal, she could have been with any one of the bland, cookie-cutter ‘suits’ she’d met and sporadically dated over the years. She had instinctively known, however, that she needed someone just as strong as herself, a man who wasn’t intimidated or put-off by her ability and intellect. And she had found that man in the most unlikely of places. 

She had been grossly unfair to him, Sam realized at long last, and as she tidied up their campsite she had to laugh at herself and her foolishness. She fully expected Jack to accept her as she was, but she hadn’t given him the same unconditional acceptance in return. When was she going to learn that you couldn’t change someone else? Holy Hannah, her father had been trying to change her for years. And Jonas, well she had tried to change him, and look where that had gotten her. Had she unconsciously thought that she could change Jack? That once they became lovers he would magically transform into a sensitive, vulnerable, wear-his-emotions-on-his-sleeve type of guy? More than likely Jack would never be the open, sharing man she had fantasized herself with. That didn’t make her love him any less, it just meant she’d have to pay more attention to the small nuances in his behavior and voice that revealed so much about his feelings. Hell, they’d been together—as a couple—less than six months, they obviously still had a lot to learn about each other. 

So he was having nightmares, she had them too. Just because he dreamt that she would betray him didn’t mean that he believed she would. Hell, she’d had some fairly erotic dreams about Martouf, but that didn’t mean she would jump his bones the next time she saw him—or tell Jack about them. Give the man the space he needs, she finally decided. She had faith that their love would only get stronger. 

Finally finished with her chores, Sam eyed the sky and decided to risk going down to the lake. It was definitely cooler, but still nice enough to sit and read by the water—as long as she kept her jacket on. Grabbing a blanket and her book, she walked down to the lake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first droplets of rain caught Sam by surprise; she had been so engrossed in her book. Looking around she saw with some consternation that the late afternoon sky had become much darker and the light, fluffy clouds present earlier were now dark and threatening. As the raindrops continued to fall, she quickly folded up the comforter and jogged back to the campsite. Just as she reached the shelter of the canopy, the storm let loose, the rain starting to come down in earnest. 

The campsite seemed empty, but she saw Jack’s bike parked next to the truck, so he was back. She quietly let herself into the tent, peering around the flap into the second room. He was asleep, sprawled on his back, wearing only his boxers and a T-shirt. She wondered how long he’d been sleeping. Gazing at him lovingly, she decided about the only time Jack O’Neill looked vulnerable and open was while he slept. Slipping off her shoes, she crept onto the mattress and lay down beside him, pulling the spare blankets up over them to ward off the chill from the rain. Sam turned so that she lay facing him, and resting a hand on his chest, she soon fell asleep, listening to the gentle sound of the rain on the tent. 

The sound of thunder woke her, slowly opening her eyes, she realized Jack wasn’t lying next to her anymore. Sitting up, she heard movement in the tent’s other room, and then he was silhouetted in the doorway. In the dim light of twilight, it was difficult to see his expression.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you," he murmured as he sat down on the mattress next to her.

She smiled cautiously at him. "You didn’t, it was the thunder." As she spoke, there was a flash of lightening and then more thunder. "Are we safe here?" she asked, the intensity of the storm beginning to concern her. 

"I think so, we’re in a fairly sheltered area, besides I think the worst part of the storm is passing to the north of us."

The storm continued to rage outside, yet she felt surprisingly safe and content with him, in the cozy shelter of the tent. She lay back down. "Did you have a good bike ride?"

"Yeah," he laughed, and then groaned. "The trail was rougher than I remembered, I think I’m going to be sore tomorrow." She held her breath as he reached out and lightly stroked her hair. "I saw you reading by the lake when I got back."

She chuckled. "I got so involved with my book I didn’t even realize the weather had changed until it started raining on me." She gazed intently at him, "I didn’t want to wake you, besides, a nap seemed like a good idea."

He lay down then, pulling her into his embrace. "It was nice, waking up with you in my arms."

"Was it now?" she murmured, nuzzling her head against his chest, one arm sliding around his waist, under his T-shirt.

His arms tightened around her, at the feel of her tentative caress. "Yeah, it was," he whispered as she felt his lips lightly brush against her hair. He turned abruptly, rolling her to her back and reaching out, gently caressed her cheek. His expression was somber as he continued; "I want to wake up with you in my arms for the rest of my life."

"That sounds pretty serious, Jack."

"As a heart attack, babe," he growled, lowering his head and nuzzling her neck, the contrast of his soft lips and the raspy feel from the stubble of his beard causing her to shiver.

She tugged insistently on his hair, and he reluctantly raised his head. She searched his deep brown eyes intently, "We’ll have more misunderstandings and fights," she warned.

"I know," he murmured as he gently brushed her lips with his.

"And I’m never going to like it when you try and shut me out."

"I know," he replied, kissing her again, this time tracing her lips with his tongue. Drawing back, he gently cupped her face with his hands, "Just so long as you know I will never be your ‘ideal’ man."

"Oh, I don’t know…" her lips curved into a slow smile as she reached up to rub the back of her fingers against his hair-roughened cheek. "After some serious consideration, my revised ‘ideal’ man looks an awful lot like you." 

"Thank god for that," he muttered, finally pulling her firmly into his embrace, his mouth devouring hers as his tongue sought for and received entrance. When they finally broke apart for air, he asked in a slightly shaky voice, "Does this mean we’re okay?"

Whimpering softly at the loss of his mouth, she smiled adoringly at him and murmured, "Does it ever."

"Good," he whispered, running his hand down her side as he shifted, sliding one of his legs between hers. Sam moved with him, wrapping one leg around his hips, her action urging him closer. He complied, settling more fully into her embrace as they kissed. Their mouths met in soft, tender kisses until the gentle touches weren’t enough for Jack and he angled his head, deepening the kiss until she once again allowed him access to the tender recesses of her mouth. Tongues mingling and entwined; teeth nipping and pulling; lips tugging and sucking; long moments of heated caresses as Sam’s body began writhing slowly beneath him. 

With a harsh groan, Jack pulled his mouth from hers, panting as he buried his face in the soft skin of her throat. Her hands clutched spasmodically at his shoulders; her breath coming in short gasps. He took some steadying breaths, trying to regain some control. "Sam, love, it’s been so long."

She sighed softly, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Eighteen days."

He raised his head to look at her, she was beautiful, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes full of passion and promise. "Really?"

She nodded; nipping at the fingers that he brought up to stroke her lips, her own hands gently stroking down his shoulders and back.

"You weren’t keeping track or anything, were you?" he teased, only to break off in another groan as she shifted her hips, her hands clutching at his butt as she ground herself against him. 

"For crying out loud, Jack," she complained breathlessly, "I’d never thought I’d ever say you talk too much." 

"Actions speak louder than words?" he asked, sitting up and straddling her hips. When she tried to move beneath him, he immediately settled his weight onto her, stilling her restless movements. He grinned at her, and quickly pulled off his T-shirt. Tossing it aside, he reached to her waist and grabbing the hem of her sweater, pulled it off over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and in the chill evening air, her shell pink nipples began to tighten alluringly. "So beautiful," he murmured, as he gently caressed her soft flesh.

"Jack," she moaned, her hands gliding up his arms to his shoulders as she pulled him down to her. He gladly obliged, and sliding his arms around her back, lifted her up to him, his mouth fastening onto one of her breasts. She gave another breathy moan as he tugged and pulled at the nipple, taking it deeper into his mouth. He suckled at her breasts for long moments, the only sound audible above their harsh breathing the distant rumble of thunder and the steady fall of rain on the tent. He felt her cool fingers slide beneath the waistband of his boxers, caressing and stroking the firm muscles of his butt as she pushed them off his hips. Quickly divesting himself of the garment, her legs shifted once more so that his hips nestled in the cradle of her thighs, their denim-clad softness rubbing enticingly on his bare skin. 

Jack pulled away from her then, sitting back on his knees between her parted legs. She looked so wanton, spread out delectably in front of him, her breasts rosy and moist from his lips. He frowned slightly when he saw a red patch forming on her soft skin, from where his stubble had abraded her skin. "Sorry," he murmured, reaching out and caressing the tender flesh, "you’re going to have some whisker burn."

"S’okay," she told him, sighing with apparent relief when his hands eventually made their way to the waistband of her jeans and he started unfastening them. She raised her hips to help him as he slowly pulled one leg free and then the other. His hands slid in a leisurely caress up her legs, her breath coming faster in anticipation of their final destination, as he gently bent her knees, giving him greater access. She jerked and whimpered when his fingers finally found and softly traced her delicate flesh.

"Easy," he whispered, as he continued to stroke her, his eyes fixed on her face as he watched her slip deeper into pleasure. Her lips were slightly parted, her breath coming in small moans as he gently tested her readiness. She was soft and damp, but experience told him that she needed just a bit more…. Sam gave an inarticulate cry when his lips suddenly fastened onto the soft flesh he’d so recently been stroking. Grasping her hips in his strong hands he held her still as he teased and tormented her tender bud, her softly murmured words of encouragement urging him on. Increasing the intensity of his assault, he sucked on her clitoris firmly while gently broaching her sensitive passage with two fingers. The combined sensations from his mouth and his hand pushed her over the edge, her release cascading through her as she cried out his name. She trembled for long moments as he gently eased her down, continuing to soothe and gently caress her. 

"Jack," she murmured one final time, her voice weak in the aftermath of her orgasm. She tugged ineffectually at his shoulders, trying to pull him up into her arms. With one last, soft caress, he obliged her and covered her shivering body with his own. 

"Cold?" he asked gently, as she wrapped her arms fiercely about him.

"No," she moaned, as she placed frantic kisses on his eyes, cheeks, lips, and throat. Wrapping her long legs around his hips, she locked her ankles, pulling him even closer. "Jack, please," she whimpered, rocking her hips against his. "I need you inside me," she pleaded, reaching down between them to gently grasp his rigid length, guiding him to her.

At the first touch of her cool hand, Jack groaned, and then shifted his hips, giving her what she wanted. He had just enough control left to thrust slowly, savoring every sensation as he plumbed her silky depths. She unconsciously angled her hips to allow him even deeper penetration, until he was finally seated fully within her. Oh god, she felt so good, he thought hazily, as began an easy rhythm, each movement of his hips answered by one from her. 

Propping himself up on his elbows, he framed her face with his hands. She opened her eyes at his movement and in their clear blue depths he could see that she had let down all the barriers of the past few weeks, letting all her love and trust for him shine through. Undone by her unconditional acceptance of him, he felt himself losing control, only just managing to murmur, "Sam, baby, I love you so…." He kissed her deeply, then with a low groan, wrapped his arms tightly around her and burying his face against her throat, he began thrusting with a powerful rhythm. He rode her hard, as if he could somehow meld his flesh with hers, and she accepted all he had to give.

As he felt his own climax approaching, Jack found himself needing to ensure that Sam would once again achieve the ultimate pleasure from their union. Slipping his hands under her thighs, he bent her legs back, leaning heavily into her. The subtle change in their position enabled him to keep a steady pressure against her already ultra-sensitive flesh. He was rewarded, moments later, by her soft cry and the firm grip of her internal muscles contracting around him as she climaxed a second time. He followed her quickly, grinding his hips against her, a ragged cry torn from his throat as he emptied himself into her.

Utterly spent, he collapsed on her, breathing hard. It wasn’t long though, before he began to feel the chill in the evening air. Jack reluctantly pulled away from Sam, and rolling to his back, pulled her soft body into his arms, covering them both with the blanket. She immediately snuggled into his side, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. He gently stroked her hair as they lay quietly, listening to the soft play of the wind through the pines.

"I think it’s stopped raining," she murmured.

He listened carefully, the only sounds that of the wind and the occasional drops of water blowing off the pine tress surrounding their campsite. "Think you’re right."

"Weren’t you going to grill those chicken breasts tonight?" she asked a few moments later in a casual voice, one hand idly caressing his chest.

His hand stilled in her hair and he tugged gently, until she looked up at him, "You’re hungry?"

"Well, yeah," she grinned at him. "Besides, you actually volunteered to cook—I can’t let that go to waste."

He returned her grin, and kissed her briefly before getting up and quickly dressing. As he left the tent, he called back to her, "I’ll need some help with the salad."

******************************************

Sam watched the scenery whizzing by through the rain-spattered window of the truck. The weather had been clear when they left Lost Lake, but the sky quickly turned dreary and it had started to rain by the time they arrived at Gunnison. Jack had turned on the radio then, and after listening to the weather report, it appeared they’d be driving in rain all the way to the Springs. She glanced at Jack; his attention focused on the rain-slicked road. She shifted as close as the bucket seat allowed and reaching out, rested her hand on his thigh. He smiled in satisfaction, but didn’t take his eyes off the road. 

The last two days of their camping trip had been relatively tranquil. The storm passed during the night, leaving Indian Summer weather in its wake; they’d biked, talked for long hours by the lake and made love. Jack’s nightmare hadn’t magically vanished after their fight—or their making-up—but he had confessed to her that it had lost some of its intensity. And Sam had to acknowledge that she still harbored some insecurity regarding their commitment to each other. She knew it would take more time, any relationship worth having took constant work and fine-tuning, and at least they were actually talking now, instead of avoiding the issue. She sighed a bit, their personal relationship would never be an easy one, even without the restraints placed by their working relationship. 

Work, they had to report back to the SGC in not quite twenty-four hours. Sometimes she truly wondered how long they would be able to maintain this schizophrenic life-style. It seemed easier for Jack, but then he’d been used to blocking out huge parts of his life during his marriage. She could only comfort herself with the hope that one-day—soon, she prayed—they’d be able to have a normal relationship. She smiled to herself then, a ‘normal’ relationship—whatever that was! Turning her eyes back to gaze at her lover, she decided that as cliched as it sounded, you could only take one day at a time. And as long as she knew Jack would be there with her—there was nothing they couldn’t face. 

THE END


End file.
